


A Noble Endurance

by aronnaxs



Series: The Last [2]
Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works, The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien, The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Gen, Reunions, Valinor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-27
Updated: 2014-02-27
Packaged: 2018-01-14 00:40:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,122
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1246264
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aronnaxs/pseuds/aronnaxs
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Legolas still waits for Thranduil on the shores of Valinor.</p><p>[companion piece to 'Forgotten', though reading of that is not essential for understanding this]</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Noble Endurance

**Author's Note:**

> So I got a few people (including the original prompter of the fic) asking for a sequel to Forgotten as that it is a very angsty fic. I gave it a go and here's the result. This can be a stand alone or linked to Forgotten, whether you want a happy ending or a sad one. 
> 
> [links to original kink meme prompt and fill on lj in Forgotten]
> 
> Link to Forgotten: http://archiveofourown.org/works/1186115

Legolas did not know how long he stared out to sea for. Each morning, he would arise, forsake the company of his kin and walk the bitter distance to the shore. With every step he took, he tried to wish for more faith in his heart but by the time he reached the beaches, it would all wither away into nothing. There were never boats in the harbour anymore, never anyone who arrived into the hallowed lands. He had heard Galion's words; even Círdan had sailed. No more elves would come. 

Yet, still, he could not let go. The long journeys he took, the terrible solitude he bore on the sands, meant that this would forever be how it was. He had made a mistake by departing his home on the hand-carven boat all those centuries ago. He could not face forgiving himself for this err in his ways. And now he was being punished for what he had done. 

But he accepted this pain with a weighted soul. For his entire life until he made his final voyage West, his father had protected him and kept the plagues of darkness at bay. He had carried the heaviness of Arda with a noble endurance and vowed that the turmoil that had ravaged him would not destroy his son too. Legolas had resented what he had seen as a cage around him, making him view the world through the bars of the woodland fortress. He had pushed and shoved until his father could not hold him any more.

And now he was gone. Both of them, torn asunder, not just by the gulf separating their lands, but the untouchable circles of life and death. Galion had tried to make it less vicious to hear, yet he knew and would stagger under the burdening truth for his long immortality - his father had faded into the trees and the earth, vanishing from the mortal planes that bore him, and he knew not where to find him. 

He would not ever find him. And no eternity of mournful hours lamenting upon the shores could bring him back.

But sometimes in his dreams, he would see the forests again, the emerald canopies whispering in Arnor's sweet glow. He remembered how his father had made a promise that one day, they would walk through the woods when it was alive again. In his visions, he finally witnessed its true beauty, hidden beneath the centuries-old rotten bleakness and woe. Leaves fell from the branches, green and shining, and he imagined them touching his skin as he and Thranduil stood side by side, hope blooming at the sight. 

Yet now they would only fall upon a lost, forgotten realm, dancing through the hollow halls onto his father's cold, still face. He could not stand the thought; the image of the once great king, alone, as he was on the beaches so far away, and fallen into the embrace of the changing world about him. Galion had told him he had done it to set him free at last. But too late Legolas realised that his journey had not been freedom; just another self-inflicted cage.

Weeks, months, maybe even years, after the last of his kin alighted upon the coasts of Valinor, he sat by the edge of the great sea, listening to its immortal song. He had once felt joy in its music, and had pined to hear its tune again and again, but now there was nothing, just the numb, dull sound of waves upon sand. He dipped his hand into its cool waters and knew that somewhere, Ulmo's rhythms would be rippling through the distant Forest River, gliding through his home. This fleeting touch was his only connection to it now, other than the pensive memories in his mind. Even his elven eyes could not see over the horizon to the far shores.

It was so terribly lonely. He could not remember the last time he had spoken to another, except from those stinging words he and Galion had exchanged in front of the final fleet from the Grey Havens. There was nothing more to say. There was nothing more to feel, but the void around him.

He sat as a silent statue at the shores of the boundless sea, eyes glazed and helpless. He heard the murmurings of the elves, speaking of his strange isolation and how odd it was that he would be so mournful in the beauty of the Undying Lands, yet he paid them no heed. And soon, they began to leave him, letting his quiet solitude become part of the very landscape about them. 

Through this dreamlike haze, he fixed his eyes upon the horizon so all that remained in his sight and mind was the straight parting of sea and sky. He saw it when he rested, he saw it when he woke, he saw it in his hallucinatory imaginings. Sometimes, he could no longer tell what was real and what was fantasy. 

So when a tiny dark pinprick appeared on the outer reaches of the ocean, he thought he must still be dreaming. As if through disturbed water, he watched it move, slowly, ethereally, gradually enlarging against the white sun. He traced it with his vacant gaze, allured by its graceful, floating rhythm. It seemed too alien, too elusive a vision, to truly exist. 

But it continued to approach, gliding up and down, up and down upon the calm surface of the water and soon, Legolas could see the form it took; not swan-like, as other boats had been, but carved with more uncertain hands, a simple shell and patchwork sail. Yet, for all its imperfection, it floated beautifully upon the waves, fragmenting the view of the unbroken horizon. He stared, entranced, still not quite trusting that what he witnessed was happening, but finally he began to feel the tugs of something long vanished from his soul: hope. Some whisper of the future arrived with the coming of that ship and he sensed it creeping into his veins, awakening the belief that he thought had waned.

Haltingly, he arose from the sands, legs trembling beneath him. Before he even knew what he was doing, he was following the course of the boat, stumbling, then walking, then jogging, then running to meet it. Somewhere, he thought he heard a call of his name but he just keep hurrying, heart pounding, head swimming, until he was right in front of the vessel's creaking prow. 

And, finally, he saw him. 

A shimmering halo of silver hair, hooded blue eyes, an ancient but ever-young figure, standing almost within touching distance. He stared at him, heart squeezing, breath catching, still not daring to believe that this was true. It couldn't be. He was dreaming again, ephemeral images conjured up by a guilty conscience. He must have been. 

But then this beautiful vision was moving, alighting from the boat and wading, pushing quickly against the waves, closer and closer. Legolas couldn't move lest he break this unbelievable image. He was but a ghost, he tried to tell himself; soon he would vanish and disappear with his ship. They were only phantoms designed to hurt him once again... 

Yet he didn't stop approaching him. He walked slower now he was upon the shores, but his eyes stayed locked with his, searching him, questioning desperately. When he reached him, he paused, and for a moment, they stood, facing each other for the first time in centuries, trembling, sensitive, maybe asking too much, maybe asking too little.

This was not real, it couldn't possibly be...

But then a hand at last reached out and Legolas sensed it brush, feather light, against his cheek. It was cold, shaking, almost uncertain... Yet it was real. His dreams always faded away at this moment, never allowed him to touch, never allowed him to reach beyond his shadowy prison. Now he was free. He was awake.

"Ada?" came the small sound from his mouth, parched after so much silence. "Is that you?" 

A smile crossed the strong face before him - the face he had known for so many long, lost years - and suddenly, he was being pulled into a tight, feverish embrace, buried into silken fabrics. His legs weakened, unable to hold him up any longer, but as he fell, he was caught and kept safe within loving arms. He hung on for dear life and before he knew it, a surge of age-old emotion swept over him, making him weep and sob until his throat was sore.

"Ada -" he cried. "Ada -"

"Iôn-nîn -" said a soft, broken voice above him, comforting tones he praised the Valar for being able to hear once more. Furiously, he nodded against the warm materials of his father's robe, letting him know again and again that yes, he was his son, he would always be his son, no one could ever take that away... He would not forsake him this time.

Neither knew for how long they stood there, firm in each other's hold, as if by letting go, they would be parted. The sun and moon could have risen and fallen, days passing them by, and they would not have noticed. All that mattered was what they now had between them, together, at long last.

But eventually, Legolas forced himself to ease out of Thranduil's arms, if only to glance upon his face and to make certain that it was truly him. He found that he had not changed since he had walked out of Mirkwood centuries ago; as beautiful and eternal as the twilight and stars. The one thing that was different was the gentle smile on his face, peace and tranquility finally finding a home in his countenance. 

"Ada," he said again, relishing the feel of it on his lips. "I am sorry - I didn't -"

Legolas could not think of a way to properly utter the feelings he had harboured since arriving in Valinor. His words sounded vague and weak but Thranduil did not seem to care, already appearing to understand. He raised a hand and gently caressed Legolas' cheek, caring and infinitely loving. "Ssh..." he whispered. "We both made mistakes, meleth-nîn. But I am here now. We can start again." 

"But how did you manage the journey, ada? Why did you change your mind?"

A wistful look suddenly glanced over Thranduil's expression. He bowed his head for a moment and reached inside his robe, removing a small, green leaf. Legolas immediately knew it must be from the East, fallen from the now fresh and colourful boughs of the forest. 

"I thought that I had passed beyond the mortal lands," Thranduil said slowly. "I thought that I had drawn my last breath. But I began to dream, passing through misty places, until I saw the sea. I walked along its shores and there, I watched myself building a boat, fit to sail all the way across the wide expanse before me. The vision showed me exactly now to carve it, exactly how to move it through the water. And, trapped in this dream world, I saw the same thing over and over again; I knew it must be a sign. But even as I again began to feel the touch of breezes upon my skin, and awoke back into the world, I couldn't accept what it was telling me to do. It took me many days lying there, debating with and denying myself, before I my eyes cleared and I realised that I was still clutching the small leaf I had taken to what I had thought would be my resting place. It was still beautiful and green and suddenly, it gave me hope. I thought of you, and all the time we had lost, and knew, clear as a new dawn, that we could correct everything we had done wrong. And so I travelled to the harbour and built this boat - to find you once again. You are my one home." 

Legolas' heart thumped in joy at this touching, miraculous story. Fresh tears filled his eyes and he reached to touch the vibrant leaf in Thranduil's hand. Together, they held it, a symbol of their past, present and future. He smiled, relief, ecstasy, faith in the bliss of the coming times flooding through him. "I love you," he found himself whispering over and over. "I always did, ada."

"I love you also, Legolas, my green leaf." 

And he crushed him in another fervent embrace, father and son again after so long. United, they stood and soaring in newfound euphoria, whispered words of great promise into each other's ears, which neither ever wished to break. "This time," they vowed. "I will never let you go again."

**Author's Note:**

> Translations:
> 
> Arda - Middle Earth  
> Arnor - Sun  
> Ada - dad  
> Iôn-nîn - my son  
> Meleth-nîn - my love


End file.
